Farmers Market Lunch

Tomatoes
That trickle
Honey
And sunshine.
Radishes
Crunch like
Gunpowder
But flavour
Without the heat.
Cheese tingles
The tongue; Waters
The mouth.
Salad leaves
Like lemon zests
And mustard
Seeded
A desire.

Eurovisionary

There may still be a couple more months to go until the Eurovision party kicks off in Malmo, but the majority of the songs participating have now been selected and announced. Last week Bonnie Tyler was given the nod for the UK entry, hoping for a better outcome than Engelbert Humperdinck a year ago, but for the last six weeks I’ve been more closely following what’s been happening in Sweden, and not just because they are the defending champions and hosts for this year.

The Swedes select their song through Melodifestivalen, a music festival and competition which lasts for six weeks, with four semi-finals, a second chance round and the grand final itself. The four semis have eight songs each, two of which go through to the final, and two to the second chance. Similarly the second chance round has eight songs, the top four going into two play-offs, the winner of each going to the final. The final therefore has ten songs.

Intriguingly, the overall winner is chosen by not only a public telephone vote, but also through international juries, both groups having an equal weighting. This way a song which has more international appeal has a better chance of winning as it is also more likely to do well in the Eurovision competition.

So what about the songs? One of my favourites was Bed on Fire, a rock ballad that was perfectly over the top in both its style and the pyrotechnics on display. It only came seventh on the night and should have done better, but interestingly the UK jury had it in third place.

Another song which was extremely entertaining was En Riktig Jävla Schlager (I have no idea what that translates as). It made me think of four hobbits singing a drinking song on a table in the Green Dragon and for that it should have done better, but unfortunately finished last. Certainly the international voters wouldn’t have understood any of the words.

Funniest song titles must go to Only The Dead Fish FollowThe Stream, and Copacabanana, the latter gaining the second most votes in the UK jury, but they only came fifth and sixth respectively.

So what about the top three? Tell The World I’m Here was second after the jury voting but only finished third overall. It also received the most points from the UK. It seemed a bit of a Disney song to me though somehow. Heartbreak Hotel came second and was the most popular amongst the Swedish phone voters, but the winner was You which was popular all round. It didn’t receive any points from the UK jury however, but most other countries put it in their top three. It’s not a song I particularly liked, being a bit trendy for my tastes, but I would predict a top three finish for it.

As for Melodifestivalen itself, I really enjoyed the whole show, it being the first time I’ve ever seen it. It’s both entertaining and light hearted, with several other musical acts interspersed between the competitors and the voting it comes across as a real music festival. There were songs from Jedward as well as past competitors, and both the presenters sung too, a lot of the songs being parodies or jokey.

It was much more entertaining that I remember a lot of UK ‘Song for Europe’ shows, with Terry Wogan looking as comfortable as a man with piles sitting on a cactus, and Michael Ball singing all the songs. I have no idea what demographic that was aiming at, but in Sweden it does seem to be a show for everyone. And that, surely, is what Eurovision is all about.

Dramatics

Graham had to admit that it looked suspicious; after all he had plenty of reasons why he might want to take revenge on his neighbours.

There was the incident the summer before when Mr Damsel had loaned him sunscreen, assuring him it was factor fifty. It ended up being factor fifteen and Graham’s sensitive skin got extremely sunburned. The Damsel’s never used sun cream apparently.

Then a few weeks ago Mrs Damsel had invited him around for dinner. However, the shrimps she had served as a starter were well past their sell-by date and Graham had diarrhoea for a week. The Damsel’s had cast-iron stomachs apparently.

But having said all that, it was an accident that the tiger had gotten loose during the dress rehearsal for the village amateur dramatics society performance of The Jungle Book. The Damsel’s didn’t know that you shouldn’t run away from a stalking tiger apparently.

Graham was sure that everyone would realise that it was just an honest mistake.

Inspiration

Type: Any

Location: Village

Age-group: Middle

Keywords:

Tiger

Rehearsal

Mistake

Shrimps

Sunburn

Flashing

I've been thinking for a while about when the baby arrives in a couple of months time that I will have less time for this blog - more in terms of tiredness and low energy levels than due to constantly being busy...not that I won't be busier of course, I'm under no illusions there.

Anyway, with all this in mind I think that before too long I will be peppering this blog with some simple flash fiction on a regular basis. The nice thing about it is that it is low on word numbers, requiring less work, but it is also creative fiction which I find a little easier than fact, somewhat. Especially since I have set up a little Excel spreadsheet to provide me with some random words and parameters which I can use for inspiration (a simple word which I wrote about a couple of weeks ago but not always so easy to come across). A test run will appear here in a couple of days.

On another note entirely, one of the things that us bloggers have to put up with on a regular basis are the spam comments. They are extremely annoying, but also incredibly funny. The texts are so vague and with grammar so awful that they can't not be. Especially when they are directing you to a site for viagra following a blogpost about babies. Shouldn't it be obvious that you don't need it? Has anyone else got any funny spam comments?

I should also mention that today is World Book Day. On their website they have a page dedicated to storycraft which could be quite interesting to those starting out in their writing as different writers speak about aspects of story writing.

The Tricksters, part 4

It’s the same scene, but a week later. All three are sitting in the same places, but instead of a hallowed silence and muffled television, grim faces and contemplation, now there is a sense of jollity and relief, raucous noise and laughter.

Surrounding them are empty beer cans, a half dozen on the floor and another half dozen in a tower on the coffee table. A pile of chip papers sits next to it sending out a smell of stale grease and vinegar. Greg has his voice back.

‘That felt wonderful’, he said for the third time that evening and laughed. The others laughed with him. ‘Did you see the look on his face when the third delivery was made?’

The question, as often with Greg, was rhetorical.

‘He deserves this’, he continued. ‘The way he’s treated us, as if we’re nothing, as if we’re the muck that’s come in on the bottom of his shoes. He must have hated not being listened to, as if he was some sort of crazy, demented old man who’s forgotten that he even ordered pizzas.

‘He must have hated that lack of power, of no longer being the one who could make the decision, of having to plead with a pizza delivery man of all people. That must really have cut him deep.’

‘It was funny enough when the first guy turned up’, Alan said. He had been there watching from the very beginning while he waited for Pete and Greg to show up.

‘He just looked very confused to begin with. He had a look on his face which suggested that he wondered if he had indeed ordered the pizzas but just forgotten. After all his name and address were correct. By the second delivery he was starting to cotton on.

‘I can’t believe how lucky we got with the fact that he was actually hosting a party. I loved the bit where he said “I haven’t got time for this, I have guests”, at which the delivery man replied “That’s probably why you ordered the pizzas”, except he said it in broken Polish.’

They giggled again, but in his own head Greg was reliving it all. The texts written by Pete were spot on, conjuring images of a confused man who wasn’t quite sure what he was doing or what he wanted. Of course this was exactly what the delivery men expected when they got to his house, and it was exactly what they got.

Greg hadn’t fully understood it at first, but he saw it in action he realised what a masterpiece of scriptwriting it actually was. He mentioned this to Pete.

‘Thanks. Funny you should mention it actually.’

Pete had been wondering all week how he was going to get this subject out into the open. The previous weekend had been something of a cathartic experience for him, having never mentioned Paul and his tragic end to anyone since he had come out of therapy.

Although he had felt that he could get on with his life quite happily without that sense of extreme guilt which had plagued him before, especially with his goal of continuing Paul’s work as some type of memorial, he had still felt unable to speak openly about it. And he realised a week previously, he had been holding himself back solely to keep Paul’s memory.

‘Oh?’ Greg said, intrigued.

‘I handed my notice in yesterday. At my job. And I’ve enrolled on a scriptwriting course.’

Greg was just about to speak when Alan spoke up.

‘Make that two. I’m leaving the police.’

Greg and Pete looked at him in shock.

‘What?’ Alan asked.

‘You of all people seemed so set in your ways’, Pete answered. ‘I thought that the Met was like your second home.’

‘That was the problem’, Alan replied.

‘But I thought you loved the camaraderie, isn’t that why you joined in the first place? What are you going to do instead?’ Pete continued.

‘Going to train to be a primary school teacher’.

‘But I thought you said..?’

‘I know what I said’, Alan cut in.

In fact he knew full well what he had said. That any man who went into teaching must be queer, or at least a paedo. That it was a job for women because it didn’t require any heavy lifting. That it was a job for women because it meant that they were available to pick up the kids at the end of the day when the men were doing proper jobs. That it was a job for women because they weren’t capable of working fifty-two weeks a year.

‘But it wasn’t me.’, Alan continued.

‘Yes it was’, Greg said, ‘we heard you’.

‘Yes. I mean, it was my dad. He said all those things and I just repeated him. That’s what I’ve been doing all my life, copying him. It’s about time I did what I want to do, and if he thinks I’m queer, or doesn’t want to talk to me or see me again then it’s his problem, not mine. I’ve got to stand up to him’.

‘Crikey!’ Pete said. ‘What’s brought all that on?’

‘Marie. She came here to repair the boiler.’

‘A woman repairm..woman?’ Greg said.

‘Exactly’, Alan said smiling. ‘It shocked me too, at first. But she’s...well, she’s just amazing. And it’s got me thinking. And then your story last week Pete got me thinking even more. Life’s too short to be copying your parents. Why should I be living up to my dad’s standards when I don’t agree with them? My life’s got nothing to do with him.’

‘How’s your dad taken it?’ Greg said.

‘Doesn’t know yet.’

Greg’s question had been going through Alan’s head all week. How exactly was he going to break it to his father that he had both quit the police force and intended to begin training to be a teacher? A primary school teacher at that. He would probably disown him. But lately Alan had come to a conclusion, albeit yet without too much conviction.

‘But then to be honest I don’t really care how he takes it. I love Marie; I think she might be “The One”. And if she thinks that I’m doing the right thing then my dad can, well, you know...’

The room quietened as all three were lost in their own thoughts. After a moment, Alan and Pete found themselves both staring at Greg. He looked up.

‘What?’

‘What have you learned from this?’ Pete asked.

‘Yes, have you undergone any personal changes?’ asked Alan.

‘Should I have done?’

They had no answer to his question. Greg grinned.

‘Have actually. I’ve learned that I am entirely happy with who I am and what I am doing. I wouldn’t change a thing. Last week’s sore throat got me to realise that I am nothing without my voice. I love to speak...’

‘We’d noticed’, Pete and Alan said in unison.

‘Well, there you go then. You already know that I wouldn’t want to do anything different. My voice is my talent. I can weave anything with the words that I cast, I can hold anyone spellbound. I proved that tonight.

‘Although Pete’s words were spot on, I don’t think that there could have been anyone else here who could have spoken them with the right nuances and expressions, emotions and intonations than I?’

As there was no response, he continued.

‘Quite right. No one. So why on earth would I want to change from a job where I get to speak for all of every day? I get to tell people that they can do any job in the world that they want, to highlight their strengths, give them advice on their weaknesses, and mould them into exactly the candidate that an employer wants. Or at least, thinks they want.

‘And with those employers, I get to tell them what they think they want. I make sure that they pick the worker that I want them to have simply because they believe what I’ve made them believe. Who else has that sort of power? The power to persuade, the power to convince, the power to trick?’

‘I guess we’ve all been playing tricks lately’, Alan said. ‘Some of us on ourselves.’

‘I’ve never seen you show that depth of sensitivity before’, Greg said with sarcasm.

‘He’s got a point’, Pete added.

‘Still. This is isn’t some kind of moralistic tale is it?’

‘If it is, can I use it for a script?’ Pete asked. ‘I’ll pretend it’s made up. Honest.’

Plastic Waste

Do supermarket cashiers in the UK all have shares in the companies that manufacture plastic bags? Otherwise, why else would they always automatically try to give you one without even asking if you want one? Especially since their employers tell the media that they are working hard to reduce plastic waste. Is this just a London thing?

Cots and All

Apologies to some of you; I used to get a bit bored about people talking about babies and all the stuff that comes with them before I was to become a father, but I will be talking a little about baby stuff today.

Our most pressing agenda recently has been cots. Ideally we would have gone for something that was made with ecologically sourced wood, as well as using nasty’s-free lacquer’s and glues. Sadly, such luxuries are well out of our price range and so we’ve had to settle for something from Ikea. We ordered it this week, and so will hopefully receive it next week. The whole thing is starting to feel much more real now.

However, we will be going for something much more organic when it comes to mattresses.

My wife has also almost finished making a baby blanket, which has now been quilted, but is just missing some binding for around the edge. The handmade patchwork side of it can be seen at her own blog Confessions…

She has also been busy making baby toys, including some extremely cute stuffed animals. I think that the baby is going to end up with more toys than me before it’s even born! But for a while I’ll get to play with them myself.

My hormonal fits have been starting to wear off I’m glad to say, I’ve not been feeling too up and down this week, just a little tired instead. I have some days off work next week and am looking forward to the rest, but we will be spending some time at the baby sling library in Greenwich. I’ll be able to tell you more about that next time.

We’ve also ordered a book this week called ‘The Diaper Free Baby’, which hopefully will explain methods of infant potty training which we intend to use. The concept is that babies are born with the instinctive knowledge not to want to soil themselves, and it’s a way of getting them to use a potty earlier than with other children. Sounds great, doesn’t it?

Not only is it better for parents and child in the long run, it is also better for the environment. We’re hoping that it’s going to work, and we’ve read good things about it. Anyone else out there got any more information or advice for us? I’d love to hear it if you do.